Cressida: her story
by boywithbreadlover
Summary: "I was Capitol born, but not Capitol in my ways. I'm not sure where I found the sympathy that I had for the tributes because I was badgered my whole life about how they deserved it. I guess I was just a little more human than the rest of them."


My parents' chortled laughter sickened me, deep and throaty, they actually find it hilarious. Death and destruction right in front of them and they were laughing. I hold back my tears; I was made fun of every time I cried at the death of a tribute.

"It's silly." My brother had once said to me when I was locked into my room for a whole week because I had been scarred by the brutal death of a 12 year-old. My brother, Marx, got me more than the rest of the family did, but only just a little.

"Why? She was twelve. Why does she deserve it?" I had said in between tears and sobs. I was finally getting some kind of hold on myself, but then I remembered her sweet face and her light-hearted interview with Caesar and I cried again.

"She's from the Districts, Cress. She deserves it." I shudder. This is where I was different from my family. I was Capitol born, but not Capitol in my ways. I'm not sure where I found the sympathy that I had for them because I was badgered my whole life about how they deserved it. I guess I was just a little more human than the rest of them.

My hair was cut short and kept brown, my mother always begged me to dye it, but I always refused. I was told to my face on multiple accounts that I was an embarrassment, and it wasn't always my parents.

My camera is where I found my refuge. It was small and didn't take very good footage, but it was where I found my heart. I found beauty in this horrible, corrupt Capitol behind my lens. I dreamed of escaping with my camera to the Districts, I wanted to document what really went on there, but I knew that would never happen.

One, only Capitol workers ever leave here. Two, I could never become a Capitol worker. And three, the President would never approve of that kind of work. But what was a dream if it wasn't impossible?

One job could come close. I could become part of the crews that go to the Districts and interview the families, at least I could leave this place. At least I would get to see the Districts first hand.

….

I had been sending in my footage to the Gamemakers for quite sometime, but it wasn't until I sent them an interview I had with my brother about the Games that I got called in. The tape had gone like this.

Me: How do you feel about the games this year?

Marx: It's very interesting, a lot of sixteen year olds. I'm excited to see how it plays out.

Me (withholding my shudder): What tributes are you most excited about?

Marx: That's a tough one, maybe the boy from Two and (pause) the girl from Four.

Me: Who do you think will be weeded out quickly?

Marx: It's hard to tell with just the reaping, but probably the girl from seven.

Me: Thank you for letting me interview you.

That was it that was all I had done and that's what had gotten me the job. Apparently they needed someone desperately because one of the their main camera people had died from sudden sickness. I was put on that job that very year. I was sent to District Seven for the girl that my brother thought would be killed off first. Johanna Mason, she was stronger than what she appeared.

She didn't have many people to interview, only her grandmother and her mom. We were ordered to higher people to act as her friends. She had a high chance of winning and they wanted her to look likable. The interview with her grandmother is the one I liked most and the only one that didn't get put on the television. I got to lead it.

"So what was Johanna like as a child?" I had asked, their house was small and they had me sitting on a small stool. The cameraman beside me shifted his weight and the whole house creaked. Her grandma was small, but not fragile in any way, she was strong, stronger than I would ever be.

"She's always been a fighter." A smile broke across her old wrinkly face and she looked up at me, "Always been good at fooling people too. That's what I love about her, how sure she is about everything. When she said goodbye she didn't have a tear in her eye and," She had paused to wipe a tear from her eye, "She said, don't worry I'll be back. I'm strong. And I never doubted her."

She had moved me to tears and when we left the whole crew had deemed me as weird and liked to keep their distance. It went on like this for years, going to different Districts each year, seeing all the different dynamics, I liked it. I cried a lot after the interviews when we were back home. I would meet their families, I would get to know them, and they would just die. Every once and a while I went to the home of the Victor, like I had with Johanna, but mostly I didn't.

It wasn't until the year after the 74th annual Hunger Games, when Katniss and Peeta were preparing for their victory tour that Plutarch had called me in. I had heard he was the new Head Gamemaker, but I had never actually met him before. I thought he was just calling me in so he could meet the crew, but I was far from the truth.

He had taken me into a small room, with no windows and no telltale signs of hidden cameras; he was about to tell me something secretive.

"Cressida, you're special." I sat quiet. No one had ever told me that before, and he was sincere. I'm not sure how he knew about me, maybe someone had complained about how emotional I was.

I stayed quiet, stunned to silence, "More human?" He raised his eyebrows. A Head Gamemaker? He didn't seem to be so brutal. I had talked to the old one, Seneca, before. I hated him with a passion. But Plutarch, he was…different. I could already tell.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You don't stand for this." What do I do? Shake my head and die or stay in silence and suffer? I take a chance and shake my head. Something about him made me feel safe.

"See Cressida, I don't either. What would you say if I told you I have a different job for you? A dangerous one, but for a good cause." And that's how I came to today. Katniss Everdeen in front of me, running, me running as well, giant monsters ahead of me.

I was going to die, I knew that, but it was for the good of the rebellion.

* * *

**I came up with this because of Jabberjay ((my other fanfic)) and one of the thoughts that Peeta had. I had never really thought about Cressida's story until recently, but I thought it would be interesting!**

**Don't forget to REVIEW on the way out! Thanks! ~boywithbreadlover**


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